


Mycroft's advent calendar

by EmmaSpencer



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Advent chalendar, Annoyed Mycroft, Christmas Time, Confused Mycroft, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Excited Anthea, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Mycroft doesn't know something, Mycroft is a Bit Not Good, No one knows who them from, cute little ones, eventually mystrade, it will make sense in the end, secret sender, small gifts, trying to make myself write a little daily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-05 18:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 12,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16815703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaSpencer/pseuds/EmmaSpencer
Summary: Mycroft get home from a trip abroad to find two packages waiting for him.To his surprise they keep coming day after day; and even he couldn't figure out their origin.





	1. Day 2

“Anthea?”  
“Yes.” she came in.  
“What is this?” Mycroft pointed at the two packages on his desk.  
“Don’t know.” she shrugged.  
“Why not?”  
“We just got back if you forgot.”  
“I know, still.” he carefully walked around the desk.  
“I’m sure noting dangerous, or it wouldn’t get here.” she picked one of them up. “One.”  
“What you say?”  
“It says it…one and this say two.” she gave it to him. “Open it.”  
“Me?”  
“Well if you are called Mycroft Holmes then yes.” she huffed. “Really pretty…black paper with a purple sash. Really you.”  
“So it’s from you?”  
“Nope.” she chuckled. “Now open it already.” she sat to the desk scanning him with interest.  
“Fine.” Mycroft really carefully peeled off the wrapping paper.  
“So?”  
“It is a dried flower.” Mycroft turned it around his fingers.  
“A daffodil.”  
“Indeed.” he hummed and put it down.  
“Next.”  
“Why are you so excited?”  
“I’m curious where this will go.” Mycroft sighed and opened the next one.  
“It’s…” he sniffed the black substance in the box. “Coffee.” he frowned. “I don’t understand.”  
“I’m sure it will make sense.”  
“Go and find out who them from, who delivered it…everything.”  
“Get it fingerprinted?”  
“Exactly.” he gave them to her.  
“All right.” she sighed and jumped off the table.


	2. Day 3

“Nothing.”  
“Sherlock please…just try harder.” Sherlock snorted.  
“It is a boring black wrapping paper, a boring purple sash, both of them you can buy anywhere. The coffee and flower could also come from anywhere…there is nothing.”  
“But…”  
“I can say it is not an attack on your life other than that I’m not interested.” Mycroft huffed and plucked the package out of his hand.  
“What’s in the third one?”  
“Why is everyone so interested in this?”  
“Who else? Maybe they are in on it.”  
“Anthea was with me on the plane so it is a no.” he sighed and opened it. “What on earth.” he mumbled.  
“What’s it?”  
“Here, yours.” he handed the pack of cigarettes to him.  
“It’s your kind…I put it down since John and Rosie moved in…you should too. Have you heard of third hand smoking?”  
“Yes, yes…” he mumbled pocketing it. “If you hear something or have an idea, call me.”  
“Will you come home for the holidays?”  
“I feel like I’m not welcomed.”   
“She doesn’t want to talk to you, but would be mad if you wouldn’t turn up.”  
“Exactly.” he sighed.  
“Think about it, John and Rosie will be there too.”  
“No thank you…as I heard she plans on visiting our sister.”   
“Yes, we composed a piece for the occasion.” Mycroft closed his eyes for a second. “You could…”  
“No!”  
“Don’t even know what I wanted to say.”  
“If I’d like to join in. My answer is absolutely no. I went once, I told you that is the only one time I’m seeing her.”  
“She is…” Mycroft raised a finger.   
“I said no!” he marched down the stairs bumping to Greg. “Apologies.” he mumbled.  
“Mycroft!” he turned red. “Good to see you…”  
“Anything I can do for you Detective Inspector?” he asked coldly.  
“No, no...just…” he stepped aside letting Mycroft run off the stairs.  
“What was that?” Greg stepped to the kitchen.  
“Mycroft being unbearable, nothing out of the ordinary.”  
“Why?” he enquired.  
“He doesn’t want to see our sister.”  
“Who would.” he mumbled.  
“And what do you want?” Sherlock ignored it.  
“Here you go.” he handed him the file. “I need it back later today.”  
“Sure.” he mumbled already forgetting that he was there.  
“See you Sherlock.” he waved and left the kitchen. “Smoking again?” he spotted Mycroft pacing by the car.  
“Someone was kind enough to send it to me.” he lit another one, Greg took it out of his hand. “I thought you quit.”  
“Same.”  
“Bad day.”  
“Heard. Sherlock will never change.”  
“In deed.” Mycroft opened the car door. “Good day.”  
“A better one Mycroft.” Greg mumbled.


	3. Day 4

“The next one is arrived!” Anthea marched past Mycroft when he opened the front door.  
“I called in that…”  
“I know.” she shrugged. “I brought it over.”  
“I couldn’t wait for it.” he said sarcastically.  
“Me neither.” she went to the kitchen and turned on the coffee machine. “What happened?”  
“Nothing, I just wished to sleep in for once. I’m not wanted in the office so I thought no harm in it.”  
“Not at all.” she put down the mugs. “Tried the coffee that was in the package?”  
“Yes, it is terrible.”  
“So you have a flower, bad coffee, cigarettes and?” she glanced at the newest one. Mycroft sighed and opened it.   
“Water. Why, just why?”  
“Anything that comes to your mind…anything connecting them?”  
“No.” the little vial joined the other stuff.  
“Then use your brain.” Mycroft just waved. “Something is off about you.” she scanned Mycroft over her mug.  
“Nothing is off about me my dear.” he mumbled.  
“Are you sure? I can help, you know.”  
“I know, I know…better get changed.” he got up.  
“Coming in then?”  
“No, DI Lestrade called…so I’m meeting him.”  
“Ooooo meeting him?”  
“Anthea, stop this!”  
“Why is it so hard to admit that you like being with him?”  
“Because he doesn’t.” he got up. “And that is how it should be.” Anthea muttered something but Mycroft paid no attention to it.

“What can I do for you Detective?” Mycroft sat to the little table in the quiet café.  
“I just…saw you yesterday and I wanted to ask if I can help with anything.”  
“Why would you?” he frowned.  
“Looked like you need it.” Mycroft chuckled.  
“What I need is someone to find me who sends those packages.”  
“What packages?”  
“I get one every day, but the content makes no sense to me.”  
“What’s in them?”  
“Dried daffodil.”  
“Unrequited love.”  
“Hmmm?”  
“That is what is symbolises. You have an admirer.” he smiled at him.  
“What’s with the bad coffee, the cigarettes, the water…what are they?”  
“Someone you drunk bad coffee with, who saw you smoke…and wet?” he chuckled. “Rain most likely…”  
“How?”  
“What how?”  
“How you know that?”  
“I just think.” he shrugged.  
“Why is it so hard for me to do it now days.” he sighed rubbing his eyes.  
“Do you sleep enough?”  
“Too much if you ask me.”  
“How’s work?”  
“I’m not allowed to do practically anything…”  
“Why not leave it then?”  
“That wouldn’t help…now I can use my mind a bit at least.”  
“Little holiday maybe?”  
“Not my thing.” he huffed.  
“Maybe it could be.”  
“I doubt it.” he got up. “If there is nothing else…”  
“Nothing...but if you need something, just call. Promise.”  
“Then goodbye.”  
“Mycroft, promise it!” he just walked out not paying attention to him.


	4. Day 5

“Doughnuts today…homemade ones.” Anthea mumbled with a full mouth.  
“Who told you to open it?”  
“I could smell them, I was hungry…not that you care about them.” she shrugged. “Left for you, don’t worry. It was freshly made…still hot and steaming when I got in.”  
“Checked the log?”  
“Yes, no one from the outside.”  
“In?”  
“Nope.”  
“Cameras?”  
“No one out of ordinary.”  
“So it is a ghost?” Mycroft took a bite, closing his eyes and hummed.  
“I don’t know, but bakes really well.” she took another. “Jam…your favourite.”  
“Gregory might be right.”  
“About what?”  
“He said that daffodil stands for…”  
“Unrequited love, yes I researched it. And that someone knows what you like…what kind of cigarettes you smoke…so who it could be?”  
“Don’t know.” he sighed. “I do not know…I try to think but I just don’t know!” he grunted. “I rather go home.”  
“You just got in.”  
“Know my number, call me if something comes up.” he picked up the remainder of the doughnuts.  
“Mycroft…” she ran after him, but he didn’t pay any attention to her.

“Hi.” Mycroft stared at Greg with surprise. “Anthea called me, she couldn’t reach you.” Mycroft huffed. “She is worried, so I came to check on you…called your brother too.” Mycroft rolled his eyes. “She said…”  
“Thank you, but I’m all right.”  
“I can see that.” he chuckled. “Now that I’m here…want to have lunch?”  
“Lunch?”  
“Yes, I’m on my lunch break.” he shrugged.  
“Thank you, but I have to work.”  
“Okay, sure.” Greg smiled at him. “See you then.” he went back to the car. Before Mycroft closed the door, his phone was ringing.  
“You are an idiot!”  
“Thank you Anthea.” he sighed.  
“Why? Just tell me why? You are barely working, you have all the time you need for him…”  
“No need to remind me that I’m useless.” he put the phone down. It took a lot not the throw the phone at the wall. “Why she needs to get into everything.” he huffed as he stomped up the stairs.

“No one puts the phone down on me, not even you Mycroft Holmes!” Anthea yelled as he stepped to the house. “Heard me?”  
“Loud and clear.” Anthea followed his voice to the sitting room. “What are you doing?”  
“Working.” he huffed not looking up from his laptop.  
“Mycroft we really need to talk.” she sat next to him.  
“What about?”  
“This whole closing yourself to the house, not talking…not coming to work…”  
“It is very simple. I had enough of people already. They take so much out of me and I’m just fed up with it! The constant head ache, the exhaustion…I just don’t want anything to do with that stupid bunch.” he sighed. “Is it that hard to understand…I want to be alone, far from them.”  
“Okay…”  
“You are not one of them, don’t worry.”  
“Thanks. But your head aches from the screen.” she pointed at the laptop.  
“Both of them.”  
“If you say so.” she chuckled. “Lunch?”  
“I do nothing else but eat.” he sighed.  
“Meaning you cooked?” she got up.  
“Yes.” Mycroft sighed and followed her to the kitchen.


	5. Day 6

“Are you coming in today?”  
“Is there something for me to do?”  
“Well, there are lots of posts from social media needed to be looked through…”  
“Cool.”  
“What you said?”  
“I wanted to express my excitement in the topic.”  
“Sure.”  
“You love surfing them anyways.”  
“Are we complaining?”  
“No Anthea.”  
“Okay, I cover for you…again. You have to stay away from monitors because of your eyes, doctor’s order.”  
“I appreciate it.”  
“Always, I send the package over if it arrives.”  
“Nothing yet?” he asked nonchalantly.  
“Nope, but I keep my eyes peeled.”  
“Do so. See you Anthea.”  
“Bye!”

Mycroft heard the bell, so he made his way to the front door.  
“I came over, needed a break from them.” Anthea grunted. “In case I murder someone, will you help?”  
“Sure, anything you need. Insanity plea, killing the detectives, witnesses…” Anthea chuckled.   
“Lunch.”  
“Will you join me?”  
“Sure…this was in the mailbox.”  
“Thank you.” he sighed taking the envelope.  
“What is it now?”  
“After lunch.” Mycroft would never admit that he was curious himself.  
“It is a note.”  
“If you say so.” Mycroft put plates to the counter.  
“May I?” she already opened it. “Oh this is cute.”  
“What it is?”  
“What you need now.” Mycroft took it out of her hands.   
“Why would I need it?”  
“Get out, help your back…”  
“A stranger touching me, how lovely.”  
“Your back needs it now and you need to go to the store anyways. Also get a new mattress.”  
“If I give in, will you stop with it?””  
“Good, I took the liberty of ordering it months ago. Call them to deliver it…they’ll take the old don’t worry.” Mycroft chuckled. “I know what would you do without me?”  
“I never said that.” he smiled at her.  
“Thank you…now eat! And once the bed is settled you can go and redeem your massage.”  
“What if it’s a trap to get to me?”  
“I go with you…my shoulders are not the best.” she stretched. “Since that woman has a say so in our work, my back and neck hurts terribly. When can we get rid of her?”  
“That is on me, sorry.” he whispered. “And till I give in a retire, it will stay like this…try to get used to her. She is not that bad, you can believe me.”  
“What happened between the two of you?”  
“We are just friends…no acquaintances...not friends.”  
“Are we? Friends?”  
“I consider you to be my friend, yes.”  
“Good, me too.” she smiled. You know what you need?”  
“No.” Mycroft pushed his lunch around the plate.  
“Getting out of the house and not only for work.”  
“But I’m tired.” he sighed. “And don’t know…lazy?”  
“You lazy?”  
“I should be cleaning, but haven’t done that either.”  
“It’s okay, you do it later.”  
“Next week? When I have to go in daily? Sure.”  
“Weekend?”  
“Maybe.” he sighed. “Said that the last weekend though.”  
“There is no one else who would do it…so you’ll get to it.” Mycroft pushed the plate away and got up.  
“I write my shopping list, you drive.”  
“Deal.”


	6. Day 7

“Finally Friday.”  
“Not like you spent that much time in this week.” Anthea huffed.  
“I worked from home, privilege of the old.”  
“Old.” she snorted. “You are everything but old Mycroft. That is why I say you really should make a move on the detective.”  
“He is dating someone else.”  
“Who?”  
“A lady.”  
“Going out with her once is not the same.” Mycroft rolled his eyes. “He is here by the way.”  
“Let him in.”   
“Hello Mycroft, milady.” Greg bowed.  
“Something happened detective?”  
“I got this at the front desk.” he gave him the box. “It is your secret admirer?” he smiled at him.  
“Yes.” he huffed and took it from him. “So?”  
“It is our usual Sherlock gossiping lunch…”  
“Of course.” he shook himself and got up.  
“Won’t you open it?”  
“It can wait.”  
“We can’t.” Anthea joined him. Mycroft rolled his eyes and opened it slowly. “Is it a strip show?” Anthea mumbled making Greg chuckle.  
“It is…” Mycroft tilted the box. “…a snow globe.” he gently turned it around the snowflakes falling around the black umbrella.  
“Really pretty.” Greg looked at him rather than the globe but Mycroft didn’t realise it.   
“It is.” he put it back to the box. “Still don’t know what it means. Usual place?”  
“I heard of a new one, we could try it.”  
“Why not.” Mycroft put on his coat. “I’ll be back Anthea.”  
“I’m here as always.” she sunk to his chair. “I take your office till that, so she won’t talk to me.”  
“All yours…”  
“So what you got yesterday?”  
“Massage.”  
“Oh, I envy you.”  
“Why not go yourself?”  
“No time.” he rubbed his back. “Maybe should get the time for it.”  
“Maybe rather than having lunch with me you could take care of yourself…and a better chair. I just got my mattress changed and it is life changing, even after a night.”  
“That must be lovely.” he sighed. “Use it well.” Mycroft snorted making Greg chuckle. “I’m just saying.” he smiled at him widely. “And I never regret meeting you.”  
“Strange.” he mumbled.  
“Haven’t heard it before?”  
“No, only complains.”  
“Then change the people you meet.”  
“If it would be that easy.”  
“I know, work is work.” he sighed. “I actually started to have enough of it too. People, I mean.”  
“Something we have in common.” he smiled.  
“Walking?”  
“It is…acceptable. I don’t get out enough I feel.”  
“Too much work?”  
“Yes, work.” he whispered. “How’s work for you?”  
“Surprisingly calm…I fear something will hit us at Christmas.”  
“Have plans?”  
“Maybe.” he mumbled. “You?”  
“Staying home, alone...watching old movies and drinking.”  
“Have you talked with Sherlock since we last met?”  
“No.”  
“Don’t want to I take it.”  
“Not now. I have enough in my mind. So is he behaving?”  
“He is…He is rather a stay at home dad now.”  
“Stay at home dad?” he looked up.  
“Well whenever I call he is looking after Rosie.”  
“But…my brother isn’t gay, nor Dr. Watson!”  
“Well I’m bi so…it wouldn’t surprise me that much.”  
“I talked with my brother about it several times when we were…”  
“Young? It can change. Believe me.”  
“If you say so.”  
“What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing.” he shrugged. “It would be good to see him happy with his family.” he smiled sadly.  
“You?”  
“What about me?”  
“Exactly.”  
“Not married.”  
“No one in the picture?”  
“No.”  
“Sorry to hear that…since the divorce I’m pretty lonely…now that the holidays are coming it is even worse.”  
“I had the time to adapt to it.”   
“We are here.” Greg opened the door for him. “After you.” he smiled.  
“Thank you.”


	7. Day 8

“What happened now?” Mycroft sighed as he answered his phone.  
“Did you get it?”  
“Get what?”  
“Today’s package of course.” Anthea said excitedly.  
“Haven’t checked.”  
“Then do so. I’m waiting…” Mycroft sighed and went out to the mailbox. “What are you up to?”  
“Doing what I should have done during the week. Cooking, baking, cleaning, laundry, ironing…that is still pending.” he added. “I hate ironing.”  
“Who doesn’t.”  
“It is a letter again…or shaped like it. Who knows where I live Anthea?”  
“How should I know who you gave your address to.” Mycroft huffed and went back in. “So what is it?”  
“Are you going to call me every day?”  
“Yes, if you don’t come in.”  
“I will be there on Monday, next week seems to be more busy, not in a good way.”  
“Stop complaining and open it!”  
“Fine.” Mycroft opened the envelope with one hand.  
“So?”  
“It is just a card.” he mumbled.  
“Hmmm, running out of ideas? What is says?”  
“Nothing, just a drawing, a nice one…”  
“What about?”  
“Just…not sure.”  
“Abstract?”  
“Yes...” he mumbled. “See you on Monday.” Mycroft ended the call and sunk to his armchair staring at the card. It was a drawing of him, his head resting on the handle of the umbrella, tightly holding Sherlock’s hand. He couldn’t tell when it was from since he spent lots of time like that sitting next to Sherlock’s hospital bed. He kept staring at it, the drawer really caught his desperation. “Why?” he frowned. “Why do this, why send it?” he kept mumbling to himself, only moving when he smelt something burning. “Damn!” he jumped up and ran to the kitchen. “No, no…idiot me.” he pulled the pot off the heat. “No!” he tried to save the card once he realised that the pot was now resting on it. “No…” he sighed. “Why am I so clumsy.” he sighed and sat to the kitchen island resting his head on his palms. “Always messing up…messing up everything. Aren’t you supposed to be my secret admirer? Make me smile, cheer me up with these little surprises? Not to make me miserable, not to remind me to my mistakes.” it took him a long time to put the card aside and try to save his lunch.


	8. Day 9

Mycroft didn’t have time to check if there was another package until late in the afternoon. It was there, if Mycroft would really want to he could check the camera and see who delivered it, but it didn’t really come to his mind. His day was busy, catching up with house work and meeting an old acquaintance took his day away.   
He was sitting with a glass staring to the flames when his phone pinged.  
“Anthea.” he sighed and ignored it. After a while he couldn’t ignore the pings anymore.  
“It is raining!” she was clearly angry.  
“And what that has to do with me?”  
“I’m standing in front of your gate.”  
“Oh…one second.” Mycroft let her in. “Oh the next one…”  
“It was outside.”  
“Why come over?”  
“We have work to do.”  
“Why not call…sorry.” he mumbled realising that he was the one ignoring the calls. “I put the kettle one.”  
“Only after you opened this.” she handed him the box.  
“Totally forgot about it.” he mumbled, not being so comfortable opening it in front of her. “Must I?”  
“Yes.” she nodded. Mycroft sighed and opened the box.   
“Here you go.” he put the little figurine to the counter.  
“A penguin…went to the zoo with someone?”  
“I haven’t been in the zoo for decades.” he turned it around.  
“Talked about them with someone?”  
“No.”  
“Who knows your code name?”  
“Don’t know.”  
“The sender clearly does… someone close to you. See we are getting closer and closer.”  
“Yes.” he mumbled. “Maybe…”  
“I really hope it is not her.” she frowned.  
“Who?”  
“Her!”  
“Oh, I hope not.” Mycroft mumbled too. “She gave me her private number at one time though.”  
“I say we run if it is her. Al right I promise, I will actually do something to find whoever it is.”  
“No need.” he shrugged.  
“Oh…someone is liking the attention?”  
“Who wouldn’t.” Mycroft mumbled turning red.  
“What if it is her?”  
“I’d known that…I think…I hope. Then I tell her in the end.”  
“As you wish. Where is the drawing?” she looked through the previous gifts that lived in the corner.  
“I accidentally put a bowl on it…it is destroyed.”  
“Pity.” she sighed and prepared the mugs. “Work?”  
“Work it is.” the penguin joined the others in the corner.


	9. Day 10

"Can I go home now?" Mycroft almost whined rubbing his eyes, trying to get rid of the stinging sensation and the headache which started a few hours back...of course it did not help.  
"You tell me boss." Anthea was equally tired and annoyed.  
"We go home now." Mycroft closed his laptop. "Nothing else to be done today."  
"Agreed."  
"I hate long days."  
"You? No Mycroft; I hate them and you love them...we had nothing but long days."  
"Fed up with it to be honest. Nothing interesting, nothing useful...so I can do no further harm." he smiled sadly. "Don't know why I complain...I totally deserve it."  
"You did more good than harm Mycroft." she packed up the office. "Much much more."  
"Kind of you."  
"Not kind, only the truth. Almost forgot, today’s package. If you want to you can open it alone..."  
"How kind of you." he chuckled and opened it. "Relaxation kit."  
"And a note. 'I know it's only the first day of the week but I have a feeling that you already need it. Go home, put on your favourite music, light the candles...'"  
"They smell nice. Here..."  
"It does. 'so...ran a bath and enjoy the bubbles.’"  
"What bubbles?" he pushed aside the pom-poms in the box. "Bubble bath. Can't remember when I had one last." he smiled.  
"Well it is time then. Need a lift?"  
"I..." he looked at his watch. "Yes, thank you." he sighed.


	10. Day 11

"Used it?"  
"What?"  
"The kit Mycroft."  
"Yes..."  
"You look exhausted."  
"I am." he sighed.  
"Why?"  
"Why why...because I was stupid enough to live in the end of the world." he huffed.  
"Far from people." Anthea chuckled.  
"I know, I know." he sipped his coffee .  
"Was it nice?"  
"It was." he whispered as they approached the conference room. "I'll make a habit of it...more relaxing that drinking in front of the fire."  
"Shhh...you don't want to give them more."  
"I think they'd get rid of me for less." they sat to the back. "Also I can name you all the drug addicts, all the alcoholics in this room. I'm nothing compared to them. For example our dear boss is addicted to xanax; eating it like candy...Take Lord..." he fell silent when someone cleared their throat. "Look at me, a throat clearing can silence me." he sighed. "Look what I become."  
"Mycroft; out now!" Anthea looked at him sternly.  
“We should stay…how will we know what new things they expect from us?”  
“Stop joking now...out!” she hissed, Mycroft sighed and followed her out.  
"This stops now!"  
"Meaning?"  
"You have a choice."  
"But what should I do if not this?"  
"Anything! Literally anything!"  
"But I..."  
"You what? Love your job?"  
"Kind of." he mumbled.  
"Do you love coming to the office?"  
"Nauseous every morning...hasn't happened since boarding school." he whispered.  
"See! Please for your own health, think about it. You know that I like you and that I love working with you...but this is...I can't just sit and let you suffer. Just consider it." she squeezed his arm. "For me if not for yourself."  
"I will consider it." he nodded. "And what would you do? Stay with her?"  
"I'd leave too, sitting home and translate. And finish my book."  
"Reading?"  
"Writing! You should do that too. It'd be much more interesting than mine. You can use your own experience on the field...maybe add a little romance and bam! Best seller."  
"Not my type."  
"Or you can write analyses, become a journalist or teach...the possibilities are endless!"  
"I thought something else would be your first idea."  
"Like what?" she frowned.  
"You know..."  
"Nope."  
"The DI." Mycroft whispered.  
"Oooo Mycroft Holmes! What am I hearing!" she laughed loudly. "That means you'll make the needed steps?" she raised an eyebrow.  
"Consider that too."  
"I can live with that." she mumbled. "And right on cue..." Greg was leaning against the wall in front of the office, he didn't see them first.   
"Detective Inspector..."  
"Oh hi! Hello! Got this again." he smiled holding up the package.  
"Thank you." Mycroft took it.   
"Sorry to come unannounced but I need your help. Your brother is out of control, I can't get John on the same page...they are just..."  
"I try my best." he waved him to his office. "You too Anthea...I know what you need now." he handed her the package. "I call my brother, you open it."  
"Okay."  
"What is it you think?" Greg leaned closer too.  
"Hopefully something that'll make his day." she sighed.   
"It was squishy...something from fabric I think."  
"You two are just like children..." Mycroft mumbled as he paced with his phone.  
"Us?" Greg asked forgetting that he was on the phone.  
"You too." he rolled his eyes.  
"Scarf...it is a scarf. Someone knitted it...not store bought...Really soft and warm." Anthea already opened it. "Your house!" she showed up the blue and bronze scarf. Mycroft just shrugged turning his back to them.  
Anthea grabbed Greg's arm and pulled him out of the office.  
"New years eve party...which Hogwarts house you are in quiz."  
"Yes, remember."  
"Exactly." she smiled. "Knitting, really?"  
"Very relaxing." Greg shrugged.  
"I approve."  
"Didn't know I need your approval."  
"You do, and you have it."  
"Something is really off about him..." 

Mycroft stopped by the door listening to Greg and Anthea talk.  
"I told him Greg." she hissed. "Several times, but he is stubborn, he doesn’t take advice as a normal person would...he thinks this is me trying to control him not helping…” she sighed.  
"I know but just look at him. Skin and bone, whiter that a sheet, eyes fallen in, dark circles...he is weak, forgetting things, not seeing things. He could so easily deduce what was in that package...He is not well."  
"I tell you as I told you several times that I can see that! He is so obviously not well and coming to this place doesn't help a bit."  
"What should we do now?"  
"He is considering leaving...that is all I could do."  
"Sorry for lashing out on you, just..." Mycroft left them to talk and checked himself in the bathroom mirror. Greg was too nice explaining him, he was a catastrophe. The suit hanging on him, skin dry and pale, his hair thinning even more, eyes fallen in, his hand was shaking as he reached for the tap.   
"Face it Mycroft, your time is up." he sighed.


	11. Day 12

“Good afternoon.”  
“Not in today.”  
“Oh…” Greg sighed. “Is he okay?”  
“Sent to the doctor…delivered him myself this morning.  
“Is he okay?”  
“He called and he is perfectly healthy. Or he says.”  
“Today’s package.”  
“I give it to him.”  
“Just a cake…you said something to cheer him. From his favourite place, his favourite one.”  
“I take it to him.”  
“Thanks.” he mumbled. “Keep your eyes on him.”  
“Why not do it yourself?”  
“I tried hinting that…”  
“Hinting! He needs big flashing boards telling him you are in love with him.”  
“Is he?” he mumbled. “You think he’d…I planned on meeting him for Christmas.”  
“Perfect, I don’t want him to be alone. I deliver the cake, you just go and figure something for tomorrow. Is it all planned?”  
“No, just a few of them.”  
“Where do you plan on taking him?”  
“I haven’t thought about that.”  
“Fine consider it done.” she sighed. “Little cottage, cosy, fireplace, Christmas lights…It will be really cute and romantic.”  
“I know I should feel bad for you arranging a romantic date for us…”  
“No one will know.”  
“I appreciate it.”  
“What will be next?”  
“Secret!” he smiled at him, his smile soon disappearing. “He can’t even deduce what I give him.”  
“I know Greg.”  
“He needs help.”  
“We talked about it already.” she rubbed her eyes. “I hoped the doctor will see and send him further, but he can deceive them so easily.”  
“I think more, you too?”  
“Sure, sure…now off you go. My lovely new boss is waiting for me.”   
“Good luck.”  
“Oh, I ask it from you too. If I murder her, will you help me? I arrange your date sooo?”  
“Sure, just close Sherlock up first, so he can’t gossip. But please try not to kill anyone.”  
“To late for it.”  
“What?” she just chuckled and walked away.


	12. Day 13

“I brought in the rest of the cake…I won’t eat it on my own.”  
“The rest? The whole you mean.”  
“I had a slice.” he shrugged.  
“Mycroft, this is your favourite.”  
“I know, I just don’t want it to go wrong.”  
“So you thought to share it with the office?” she raised an eyebrow.  
“Well, someone at least will eat it. I have to go and check on Sherlock.”  
“Need me to go? Please…say you need me to go.”  
“You can come.” he shrugged.  
“Lovely.” she jumped up and was already by the car when Mycroft got out. “She feels that something is off with you.” she said once in the car. “She ordered me to report about you daily.”  
“I see.”  
“I’m not going to, but I have to agree with her.”  
“And with the detective inspector.”  
“Heard everything?”  
“Just him saying how terrible I look…which is right. That is why I agreed to see the doctor, and he said I’m fine.”  
“I remember.” she mumbled.  
“No package today?” Mycroft asked nonchalantly once he couldn’t contain his excitement.  
“There is…” she took it out of her bag. Mycroft opened the box carefully and sniffed it.  
“Tea…smells lovely. Hope it is better tasting than the coffee.”  
“Lover’s leap.” she read the label. “See the message now?”  
“What message?”  
“The person on the other end of the purple sash wants to be with you…” she waved it around. “In every way…” she whispered the end to his ear.  
“But who is it?”  
“Wait and see.”  
“Till I don’t get poisoned I’m fine with it.” he chuckled.  
“I love the mystery…it is very romantic if you ask me…even if you don’t.”  
“As always.” he closed the box.   
“Anyone you’ve drunken tea with?”  
“Not how you should approach it.” he chuckled.  
“Can’t blame a girl for trying.”  
“Never dear.” he sighed.   
“What Sherlock did this time?” Anthea felt that Mycroft didn’t want to talk about it more.


	13. Day 14

"Where is he?"  
"Who?" Anthea didn't look up at her.  
"Mr. Holmes." it was clear for Anthea that she was already on the edge. "Now, if possible."  
"He is unavailable at the moment."  
"I was asking where he is not what he is doing?"  
"Working."  
"Where?"  
"Where he's needed." Anthea turned a page in the report.  
"I hope I don't have to remind you Miss..." she stopped when Anthea looked up at her with a bored expression.  
"Yes, yes heard it a few times. ‘Do as I say or you don't have a job.’ Not that I care...I'm only here for one reason." she cursed inwardly. 'Shouldn't have said that...really shouldn't.' Lady Smallwood smiled triumphantly.  
"What I thought. Mycroft, in my office in an hour!" she left.  
Anthea tried to call Mycroft several times in the morning when he didn't show up and now even more. "Pick it up already!" she drummed with a pen.  
"Lestrade!" Greg answered the phone.  
"I can't leave the office but he needs to be dragged in, at this instance!"  
"I'm in the middle of something..."  
"Now!" she ended the call knowing really well that Greg will collect him. 

“One Mycroft Holmes delivered.” Greg mumbled.  
“Thank you. You, in her office now!” she pointed at Mycroft angrily. “If she asks you were working out of the office.”  
“Thank you.” he quickly hugged her, surprising even Anthea.  
“Go now.” she mumbled. “What was he doing?”  
“Sleeping.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“I’m really sure. He looked exactly like someone getting out of bed…pillow indentation, yawning, hair everywhere, pyjama, sleepy eyes. He was just out of bed.”  
“At noon!”  
“In deed. Who knows when he went to bed last night.”  
“Most likely early.” she sighed. “What is it for today?” Greg handed her the package.  
“Hopefully he’ll get out and redeem it…them…”  
“What?”  
“He is the adoptive father of the foxes in the zoo, but he as to go and get the papers done. I hope it’ll get him out for a few hours at least, little relaxation time, good air…he loves them. We a few times met there before he started to trust me…we always ended up by the foxes.”  
“You know him well.”  
“Had the time.” he shrugged, at that point Mycroft marched past them. “Mycroft?”   
Anthea jumped up. She looked at Greg questioningly and they both went after him. “Mycroft?” she closed the door. “What are you doing?”  
“Packing.”  
“Why?” her eyes grew wide.  
“I had enough! They all pretend that they’re okay that I’m here, but they all hate me. They enjoy the situation, they enjoy the power they have over me!” he was yelling. “Well I’m not giving them the satisfaction to sit and let them do so.”  
“Resigned?”  
“Effective immediately.”  
“Okay, Lestrade will take you home, I pack up and give in my papers.” she turned on her heels.  
“Anthea.”  
“I told her that the only reason why I stay is you, it just slipped. But I stand by it…I’ll write my novel and you’ll both will buy it.”  
“For everyone in the family.” Greg smiled.  
“You stop packing, you can’t walk out with all the stuff. I’ll bring them over, just stay awake till that.”  
“I can stay awake.” he huffed. “Don’t you mind Gregory?”  
“Not at all.” he waved. “I agree with her by the way, we can’t have you walk out like a defeated, out of favour, beaten…”  
“Dog.”  
“Not what I wanted to say.” he sighed, Mycroft put on his coat and collected his umbrella.”  
“Let’s go.” he walked out, head high, back straight, not looking anyone in the eyes. Of course the whole office knew about his departure already.


	14. Day 15

“I’m not sleeping Anthea.” Mycroft answered the phone.  
“Are you all right?”  
“Just watching a movie and crying. Nothing to worry about.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Of course.”   
“What have you done today?”  
“Housework, cooking, laundry…now a bit of rest before I finish the rest.”  
“Have you checked what you got today?”  
“No.”  
“And yesterday?”  
“No.”  
“You should.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I’m curious.”  
“Fine, where it is?”  
“Coat pocket.” Mycroft went to retrieve it.   
“Let me see…” he mumbled. “Who is it? You really don’t know?”  
“No, sorry. Why are you crying again?”  
“I have foxes.” he whispered.  
“What you have?”  
“Foxes, I’m their adoptive…father? I have to go and see them to be official.”  
“See, lovely exercise for tomorrow.” she smiled. “Please don’t cry.”  
“I…don’t know who it is?”  
“Sorry, you told me to stop looking.”  
“I know. You think they will reveal themselves?”  
“Hope so.”  
“I’d love that…someone really took the time and effort…why would anyone invest so much time in me?” his tears were still rolling down his face.  
“Because they care about you, a lot…and want to show you that they indeed know you, so when the time comes for the meeting it’ll be different…”  
“Different?”  
“You’ll truly know that the sender knows you, cares for you.”  
“No one does.”  
“Mycroft…” the line ended.   
“No one does.” he mumbled and went back wrapping himself up the blanket and kept staring at the screen.

“Mycroft!” Anthea called his name for the hundred’s time.  
“What is it?” he sighed.  
“I came over to check on you.”  
“Really?”  
“What are you doing?” she sighed rubbing her eyes.  
“Watching tv.”  
“What are you watching?”  
“A movie.” Anthea sighed and closed his laptop.  
“Hey! I was watching it!”  
“Sure.” she sat to the table. “Talk to me.”  
“I’m just chilling, I can think later.”  
“I’m worried.”  
“No need.” he yawned and turned his back to her.  
“Fine, tomorrow we go with you.”  
“Who?”  
“My husband and I of course…it is time for a date.”  
“And want me there?”  
“We take you and meet up by the entrance in the end. Separate ways.”  
“Sure, sure.”  
“I brought in your next package.”  
“I don’t want it.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“I’m really sure.” she dropped it on him. “Check it. I look around.” she sighed and got up, walking around checking the state of the house.  
“I told you I took care of everything.” Mycroft mumbled when she came back.  
“I know, just wanted to be sure. Shall I open it for you?”  
“It is big and soft.” he mumbled.  
“Well yes.” she took the wrapping off. “So soft!”  
“What is?” Mycroft turned back.  
“You don’t want it.” she had her back to him.  
“It is mine.”  
“You said…” Mycroft got up and stomped around the table.  
“Mine.” he took the soft blanket hugging it tightly. Anthea smiled at him.  
“Suits you.” Mycroft just huffed and settled back on the sofa, with the two blankets. “So we’ll be here by ten tomorrow, be ready!” she turned the laptop back on. “See you Mycroft.”


	15. Day 16

“Papers done?”  
“Done, they are mine for the year.”  
“Just a year.”  
“I can come back and renew it, if I want to.”  
“Will you?”  
“Maybe…I got a year long pass, maybe I’ll come more often.”  
“Good.”  
“If you say so.” he sighed.  
“What is the agenda for today?”  
“Decorating.”  
“Already?”  
“Why not. Christmas is here in a week.”  
“I know. It can wait for me.” Mycroft just shrugged.   
“I call a cab, you don’t have to take me home.”  
“It’s not a problem…but if that is what you want.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes Anthea. Why drive two hours when you are twenty minutes away from home…you are hungry, have things to do…” he smiled.  
“Call me if your package arrived.”  
“Okay.” Mycroft waved back and started to walk. At first he was determined to catch a cab, but then he thought better to walk a bit and a bit more and some more till he was standing in front of his gate, knackered, cold and hungry.  
“Bath and hot tea.” he mumbled almost missing the small package in the mailbox. “Oh, what are you today.” he hummed and took it in. He shed his coat, not wanting to part from his scarf. Whoever made it, it was really warm and long, colours nice…he had to admit that he quite liked it. He drew his bath, putting to the water from the bubble bath; just than he realised that he was still holding the package.  
“Let’s see what you are.” he mumbled to himself. “Hmmmm, it might be nice…after dinner, snuggling up and watching it. Always alone.” he sighed and dropped to his back. Forgetting about his hunger, his bath, everything else only living for his thoughts. He came back online late at night, feeling really cold. He pulled his new blanket over himself and went back to sleep.


	16. Day 17

Mycroft woke up late in the morning, feeling exhausted and cold. He contemplated getting up, but the thought of moving was unacceptable. He felt that it was time for turning to his other side, but he discarded that idea too.  
The only thing getting him out of bed was the harsh sound of the doorbell, someone kept dressing it.   
"Hello Mycroft." Greg smiled at him. "Sorry for disturbing you but..."  
"My brother." he sighed. "I get changed, you can make coffee or tea...or whatever." he waved towards the kitchen.  
"Sure thing." Greg went to the kitchen and noted that Mycroft had nothing home. "I will stop by the shop when I bring you back so..." he said when Mycroft came back in.  
"I'm quite capable of dealing with it myself, thank you." he said sharply.  
"All right." he whispered.  
"Not all right!" Mycroft snapped. "Why can't you all leave me alone!"  
"Because we care for you." Mycroft just huffed. "Truly."  
"No one cares for me!" he was yelling. "No one was there when I was bullied, no one was there when I was so lonely and miserable that I jumped to the river, no one was there when I got tortured, no one was there when I needed help and company...never" he ran out of breath. "No one is ever there for me! Sherlock should know what it feels like...people always there for him, he is always the poor little boy, the innocent victim, and I'm the monster."  
"So you won't come."  
"Stellar job detective." he rolled his eyes. "Don't come over again."  
"But..." Mycroft pointed towards the door.  
"You can call me any times."  
"Typical." he scoffed.  
"I know, get beaten by master, still go back licking his shoes...I heard it a few times already." he mumbled in passing. "By the way this is for you." he put the package on the table. "See you." he waved back.  
"Hope not." Mycroft hissed and went to close the front door. "Stupid packages." he picked it up and threw it against the wall, he heard something crack, but left it on the floor never the less.  
“Stupid person! Why not come and tell me…all these stupid useless things!” he yelled at the sad box on the floor. “If you really care for me, just…just…” he wiped down his tears and climbed the stairs.


	17. Day 18

"I can't leave you alone for a day." Anthea pulled open the curtains.  
"Snitch."  
"Lestrade was worried and not without a reason."  
"I'm fine; leave me be!"  
"Sure. Up now!" she tugged the blanket. "I turned back on the heating."  
"I was fine."  
"Says the man under four blankets. Come on..."  
"Leave!" he yelled.  
"You know it never worked on me."  
"Get out!" Mycroft got up and grabbed her arm with more force than Anthea expected. "Out!" he pushed her out of the corridor, closing the door behind her.  
Anthea stepped closer to the door rubbing her arm absentmindedly; she could clearly hear Mycroft sobbing on the other side. She put a hand to the door.  
"I'll be downstairs Mycroft...don't worry!" there was only a miserable whine on the other side. 

Once Mycroft stopped sobbing he could remember what happened earlier. Which made him cry some more; it took him a few hours to venture down.  
"Anthea?" he asked tentatively peaking to the kitchen from behind the doorframe.  
"Sit and eat." she put a plate on the counter. "You broke two really pretty whisky glasses." she informed him. "They were really something."  
"Thank you for making me feel more shitty."  
"Any times." she bowed.  
"I'm sorry." he mumbled.  
"I know, now eat! It's just soup."  
“I’m truly sorry, please don’t hate me.” he sniffled. Anthea sat next to him, pulling him to a hug.  
“Nothing can make me hate you, promise.”  
“I broke them.”  
“You did, unfortunately.”  
“I…I was angry.”  
“Figured.”  
“I hurt Lestrade.”  
“He can handle a little tell off.” she stroked his back.  
“I talked to him…I was so nasty.”  
“He told me…he is not angry at you, only worried.” Mycroft buried his face to her shoulder. “Everything will be all right, promise.”  
“I don’t know what is going on with me…”  
“We will figure, you don’t have to get through it alone.”  
“I don’t want to be alone, not now.”  
“I’m here…if you eat.”  
“Aren’t you supposed to be my friend?”  
“I am.”  
“Then why are you blackmailing me?” he whined. After a little more fight Mycroft finished his soup. They were sitting on the sofa, Mycroft curled up his head resting on her lap staring at a movie Anthea chose.   
“Anthea.” he whispered.  
“Yes?”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Said it before.” she stroked his hair. “I know Mycroft.”  
“For everything.”  
“I know.”  
“What is going on with me?”  
“You should ask someone else that.”  
“Who?”  
“You know.”  
“Tomorrow.” he sighed. “Is there something today?”  
“I check.” she carefully got up. “Be right back, don’t worry.” but Mycroft got up and followed her never the less. “Please don’t come out to the cold like this.”  
“It’s snowing.” Mycroft whispered staring at the sky. “I love the snow.”  
“Who doesn’t.” she chuckled hurrying out to the mail box, holding up today’s package triumphantly.   
“What it is?”  
“Open it.” she closed the door pulling him back to the warmer living room.   
“I got a movie one day…don’t know which way.” Anthea smiled trying to hide her worry. “We could watch that!”  
“Sure. Now.” she pointed at the box.  
“Oh, yes.” he mumbled and opened it carefully. “Just a card.” he whispered.  
“And?”   
“I don’t want to get out and…eat out…and…and…”  
“Where to?” she took it from him. “Oh…I heard of them, new place you can’t really get in, they are so booked.”  
“Lovely.”  
“We did and it is amazing, dinner and a show…it is fun even alone. You won’t have time to feel alone…and it is for two, so you can take someone with you.”  
“You?”  
“Nope, we have a date night.” she smiled. “Take the DI.”  
“Gregory?”  
“You want to apologise anyways.”  
“True, I’ll call him tomorrow.”  
“Now, I get the movie and we eat popcorn.”  
“Sounds all right. I make tea.”


	18. Day 19

"Must I?" Mycroft whispered.  
"Who begged me for help yesterday?"  
"Not me." he mumbled.  
"Mycroft..."  
"This is humiliating."  
"Not at all. She is really discreet, no one will know."  
"I don't need it!" Mycroft got up and marched out.  
"Don’t start again!" Anthea ran after him.  
"I'm going home, I' fine...I don't need it. I don't...I want to leave." he whispered staring at his shoes. "I walk...if it's all right with you."  
"Sure. Call me when you get home."  
"Okay." he mumbled. "All right..."  
"If you don't, I hope I don't need to finish my sentence."  
"No." he sighed. "See you."  
Mycroft needed a walk, away from everyone...which didn't happen this time around.  
"Lunch?" he jumped back hearing the familiar voice.  
"Gregory." he whispered, just realising that he must have been talking to him for a while.  
"This time I invite you." he smiled at him.  
"I...I'm sorry for last time."  
"Already forgot about it, soooo?"  
"All right." he gave in. "What are you doing on Thursday?"  
"Work."  
"Sorry, in the evening."  
"Nothing really, why?"  
"The secret person sent me a dinner for two."  
"Aren't they showing up for it?"  
"I haven't thought of that. Surely not...still days to go till the end."  
"Well I kindly accept your offer and if the person turns up...I discreetly disappear."  
"I...sure, sure."  
"So where is it that we are going?"  
"According to Anthea it's a new place where it's impossible to get a table."  
"Ooooo, heard of that. Don't get me wrong, but I hope no one turns up." he smiled at him. "After you." he opened the door for Mycroft.  
"Why hope that?"  
"I can have dinner with you of course."  
"Is that entertaining?" he looked around sadly noting that the place was packed.  
"Why do you think I invited you now?" Greg found a table for them.  
"Anthea called you to find me and keep me under surveillance."  
"Why would you need that?" he frowned.  
"I don't." he huffed making Greg chuckle. "What?"  
"Sorry, sorry...but you look so adorable when you are sulking."  
"I what?" Greg smiled at him fondly. "I'm still doing it?" Mycroft whispered, Greg nodded making him turn red.  
"It's okay Mycroft." he waved. "Not an easy time for you know."  
"No." he sighed. "Thank you Gregory...for everything."  
"It's really nothing." he chuckled turning really red. "I actually enjoy se..."  
"I can't say that there is anyone...expect Anthea who helps me so much without expecting something in return."  
"Oh...yes...it's nothing really."  
"I think I...go now. I'll pick you on Thursday at six."  
"I'll be ready! How fancy I should be?"  
"As you feel comfortable." he shrugged.  
"How fancy you'll be?"  
"Just the usual." he mumbled already having enough of people.  
"Take care." Greg mumbled. 

"And again he forgot to call."  
"Oh, sorry dear."  
"Don't dear me young man! What you got today?"  
"A book...I looked for it a long time."  
"Is it good?"  
"That is why I forgot about you, sorry. Met Gregory today."  
"Should have started with that!"  
"He invited me to lunch...but I couldn't stay for long. But he sent lunch after me...double the portion."  
"Good. Ate it?"  
"Not all but yes...it was surprisingly nice."  
"Lestrade has a good taste."  
"I asked him out."  
"On a date???"  
"I...just to come with me to the dinner."  
"Don't get my hopes up." she grunted.  
"But I asked him!"  
"I know...it is something."  
"It is."  
"You didn't ask him out because you don't want to, or..."  
"I'm a coward that is all." he sighed.  
"I beg to differ...you'll have all night tomorrow to confess. Without alcohol being involved!" she added quickly.  
"Yes mother." he mumbled.  
"You bastard!"  
"Love you to mummy..."  
"Sleep tight my sweet boy, don't stay up late! Big day tomorrow." they both laughed. "I want to know every single detail!"  
"Okay, I'll call."


	19. Day 20

"I messed up." Mycroft mumbled to the phone.  
"Argued?"  
"No, just didn't make a move."  
“Should have?”  
“I don’t know…should I?”  
“That is up to you Mycroft, if you want to you can. Did he make a move?”  
"I'm not sure to be honest."  
"Data Mycroft! I need more data!"  
"I got a tie today, really pretty."  
"Yes..."  
"So I picked him up...he really made an effort to dress up."  
"Same with you I guess."  
"As usual."  
"Silent drive?"  
"No we talked the whole way...and through dinner too."  
"That is good!"  
"He is a very interesting man."  
"All you keep talking about." she chuckled.  
“I really like talking to him. He really listens and genuinely interested in what I’m saying.” he sighed dropping on his bed. “I think…I like him.”  
“Really?I never would imagine.” she chuckled.  
"Our hands touched a bit..." Mycroft mumbled.  
"Yeeees?"  
"By accident though, but our hand touched...his finger is warm and, his hand is soft, I wouldn’t think it to be this soft, his eyes are gorgeous. His smile…” he sighed. “God his smile is really something. He had a new suit and it really complimented his body, the colour his hair…it was just perfect on him.”  
“Okay, okay…not this much detail.”  
"It was just an accident…we both reached for the glass when…"  
"You pulled back and stared at your plate."  
"What else should I do?"  
"Stare into his eyes and kiss him!"  
"There?"  
"There and then."  
"So...there is no more chance?"  
"Of course there is." she tried to calm him. "Nothing is lost...just the first not official date. Lot more will follow.”  
“If he accepts my offer after this.”  
“Why wouldn’t he? What happened after that?"  
"Awkward silence for a bit."  
"I see. And then you two talked again?"  
"Yes."  
"Splendid!”  
“If you say so.” he sighed. “I feel like I…”  
“Oh shut up!” she chuckled “Now listen to me really carefully…listening?”  
“Yes.”  
“Go and take a long, warm bath after which you sleep. No need to over think it. You did great, believe me."  
"But..."  
“When was the last time you dated?"  
"Long time ago…"  
"Exactly, out of practice and not only you.”  
“Greg’s been on several dates since the divorce.”  
“How do you know that?”  
“I…” he cleared his throat. “Just want to make sure that he is all right.”  
“You are unbelievable.” she laughed. “Now go!"  
"Okay." he sighed. "I'm cold anyways."

"Let me guess matching ties."  
"Yes Anthea " Greg was still up expecting her call.   
"How the conversation went?"  
"That was okay."  
"Just okay?"  
"More than that…I love talking to him."  
"What about the touching?"  
"That was me...he was distracted reaching for the glass so I did too. He just closed off, not moving his hand just...froze."  
"System encountered an error." she chuckled.  
"Very funny." Greg grunted.  
“He thinks there is no more chance for him.”  
“There is! He was really adorable, I really enjoyed the evening…not only because of the place.”   
"What happened after that?"  
"He was a bit off...I felt like he wanted to run home. So...I told him that I have a headache so he won't feel bad for leaving."  
"Hmmm."  
"I thought of the ties...hoping he might see and ask about it. He did not..."  
"He is getting worse."  
“What can I do?”  
“Keep sending the gifts and lunch, if it’s not trouble.”  
“Not at all.”  
“And talk to him during the holidays. He might do it for you.”  
“Do what?”  
“Accept help.”  
“I will do my best.”  
“I know Greg, I know.”


	20. Day 21

Mycroft rubbed his eyes, he’s been listening to his mother talk for hours now. Of course it was about him a bad brother not going and getting Sherlock out of the mess a few days back. Not helping her with getting Eurus the present or arranging a Christmas visit, not wanting to go or talk about her at all. At one point he was yelling, but now gave up and just listened to her flow of words in silence. He sighed relieved when the ball rang.  
“I got to go.” he ended the call and went to the door.   
“Good morning, delivery for Mr. Holmes.”  
“That is me.”  
“Sign here.” Mycroft signed the form and got his particularly big box.  
“Thank you.”  
“Goodbye.”  
“Bye.” he had no idea what could be in it. He put it to the coffee table and got the sash off it, opening the lid, he sat down seeing the painting.  
“No way.” he whispered. “No…no…” he called Sherlock immediately.   
“Heard mother called you.”  
“It’s not funny you know, she’d been talking shit about me for hours!” Sherlock just chuckled, Mycroft put the phone down already forgetting that he wanted to ask Sherlock about the photo he was supposed to have of them as children. Mycroft paced for a long time trying to calm himself. 

“Thank you for coming.” he opened the door.   
“Sure thing Mycroft.” Greg smiled at him.  
“I had a long phone call with my mother, then my brother basically told me that I deserve what I got…and then the painting.” he was again pacing.  
“What paining?”   
“The person got a picture from my brother…of us…I was home from uni at Christmas, it was a very rare moment when he wasn’t ignoring me…it’s in there.” he pointed towards the living room.  
“Wow.” Greg checked it.   
“It is really accurate…someone got it from him! I gave it to him at one Christmas…there is no other copy of it.”  
“Scares you?”  
“What?” he frowned.  
“That the person is so close to you.”  
“Never thought of that.” he mumbled. “What are you doing now?” he didn't seem bothered by the prospect of the sender being close to him.  
“Working.”  
“Lunch break?”  
“We can have lunch.”  
“I want to get out of here, I have to…I just have to.”  
“Sure.”  
“Be right back.” he hurried up the stairs get changed.

“Where do you want to eat?”  
“The place we last had lunch…not had it…you remember.”  
“I do. Liked it?”  
“Yes, thank you.”  
“Here you go.” he opened the cardoor for him.  
“Thank you.”  
“So, what do you want to talk about?”  
“I…” Mycroft started to talk and haven’t stop until they got the food. “I’m sorry…” he whispered once they finished lunch. “I just…”  
“You needed it.”  
“Thank you, yes.” he sipped his coffee; Greg smiled at him.  
“If you want me…I can get rid of the painting.”  
“No! I’m keeping it…I want to keep it.”  
“Okay, sorry, I just thought you…”  
“It just brought back memories.”  
“Good ones?”  
“I miss how it was when we were young.” he nodded. “But I talked enough. What are your plans for the holiday? Hope not work.”  
“No, I take time off.”  
“Is Sherlock having a party again?”  
“I think so, they want Rosie to have a busy, big Christmas. Not invited you?” Mycroft shook his head. “Nor me.” he lied.  
“Really? Why?”  
“Not sure…but I planned on leaving the city anyways.”  
“Little distance.”  
“Maybe you could…”he started heistantly.  
“I have plans myself.”  
“Those are?”  
“Everything I haven’t done before…any clichéd holiday activity, movies, food…if I’m up for it.”  
“You can make it really nice.”  
“Thank you. I think I go and get a few things to decorate the house. You think getting lights are boring?”  
“Not at all.”  
“I want to have them outside.”  
“Good idea. If you need help installing them, you can call me.”  
“I keep that in mind. Thank you for coming over and letting me…complain.”  
“Any times.” he smiled at him.  
“See you.”  
“Hope so.” Greg whispered.


	21. Day 22

“Rapunzel Rapunzel let down you ginger locks…”  
“Not funny.” Mycroft peaked down from the ledge.  
“Told you to call me for help.”  
“Well I did! Now please get me off here.” Greg picked up the ladder and leant it against the wall.  
“I’m holding it, you can come down.” Mycroft really slowly got down wiht Greg's help.  
“Thank you, it was…” Mycroft looked up just realising that he was much closer to the ground as he imagines. “Oh…I could have just…sorry.”  
“Better be safe than sorry. Wouldn’t want you to break a limb. Now you tell me your vision and I put them up.”  
“Just be careful.”  
“Will be.” he quickly put on the lights. “Good?”  
“Perfect, thank you. Can I offer you a cup of tea?”  
“Please.” he followed Mycroft to the warm house. “Oh almost forgot, I saw the usual black purple present outside. I get it for you.” he hurried out. “How is that you went out to put the lights on in your pyjama?”  
“Not my pyjama…just comfy clothes.”  
“Sill too thin for you to be out in the cold.”  
“I just wanted to put them on till the sun was still up.” he sipped his tea. “Cookies? I baked.”  
“Thank you.” Greg sat down.  
“Grandma’s recipe, she only told it to me. I spent lots of time with her in the kitchen…it was better than being around her. Then grandma passed, so no one baked anymore. Mum said that it was in order to help me lose weight. So it was my fault too.” he sighed. “Now I have the time to bake…and it is as good as I remembered.” he took a bite.  
“It is really good.” Greg nodded reaching for another one already.  
“I have a few more I want to bake. When do you leave? I hope I did not…”  
“Tomorrow afternoon.”  
“Where to?”  
“Just to the countryside, little cottage, far from everyone.”  
“And you’ll cook and…”  
“Well of course, I can cook.”  
“Not what I meant.”  
“I find it relaxing.”  
“Even the cleaning up?”  
“Yes.”  
“Want to clean up my stuff?”  
“Why not.” he shrugged. “After tea.”  
“I was just kidding.”  
“It’s no trouble.” he waved. “Paid well with cookies.” he chuckled. “Now open it please.” Mycroft opened the box.  
“Ornaments! They are so gorgeous and so many of them!” he started to pack them out. Greg smiled seeing his eyes shine.  
“Like them?”  
“What’s not to like about them.” he whispered. Greg hasn’t seen him like this for a long time, true joy lit up his face. “Want to put them on?”  
“Sure.” Greg finished his tea and plucked one more cookie. “Let’s go. Have a tree already?”  
“No. Would you…would it be a trouble…”  
“Not at all. Maybe we should start with that.”  
“I can drive, just…I don’t want to go on my own, never bought a Christmas tree for myself.”  
“First show me the place you want to put it…do you have ornaments?”  
“No…I need them too.”  
“Fun! I love decoration shopping, all the colours…now show me the space.” Mycroft took his hand and pulled him towards the living room.   
“This is it.”  
“Aham.” Greg mumbled.   
“So?”  
“I just wanted to see, to tell how big tree we should get.”  
“Okay.” Mycroft was still holding his hand. “I thinking of white and silver for the tree.”  
“Not black and purple?” Greg chuckled.  
“No that is too dark for the room.”  
“True.”  
“Can we go?”  
“Sure, just get changed.”  
“Good idea.” he chuckled letting go of his hand. “Be right back.” Greg sunk to the sofa once he was alone, he wasn’t entirely sure that Mycroft was aware of what he did, not that he minded it.   
“Ready!” Greg was brought back from his thoughts by Mycroft’s excited voice.


	22. Day 23

“Why can’t I sleep just one day.” Mycroft whined answering the phone.  
“Are you all right?” Anthea asked worriedly.  
“I am; you should enjoy your holiday rather than checking in on me.”  
“Henry is having a nap, I’m bored…trust me you were my last choice.” she chuckled.  
“I’m glad.”  
“Have you talked with Greg, since the dinner.”  
“Yes, we went tree and ornament shopping together yesterday.”  
“Splendid!”  
“After he rescued me from the window.”  
“What were you doing there?”  
“Trapped kitten.”  
“You going after a cat?”  
“No, I was the kitten…I could easily get off, but I panicked and he rescued me.”  
“Your knight in shining armour. Anything else? More hand holding, dare I say kissing?”  
“Nothing else, just talking and shopping and decoration.”  
“Progress!”  
“Thank you…now may I go back to sleep?”  
“No other plans for today?”  
“Later I’ll cook for tomorrow. I was up late baking.” he yawned. “And anyways it is raining.” he looked towards the window. “It should be snowing now.”  
“We have enough of that here.”  
“Jealous.”  
“You can travel too.”  
“Maybe I will.”  
“Good. What you got today?”  
“I just woke up.”  
“That means you’ll go and check it now?” Mycroft grunted and got up looking for his robe.  
“I hate you.”  
“Me too. What are you planning for today?”  
“Sleeping, reading, watching movies, eating and thinking what to do in the next year.”  
“Write, write, write, write.” she kept whispering.  
“Why?”  
“Because you’ve seen so much, you know so much…it can be amazing…and no one needs to know who you are.”  
“I think about that too.” Mycroft collected the soaked package. “It got soaked in the rain.”  
“Hope not damaged.”  
“As the glasses.”  
“Well, yes…the replacements are on the way.”  
“Thank you.” he sighed and tried to open the package with one hand. “Well…it is…interesting.”  
“What is it?”  
“An…a…Christmas sweater. You might say an ugly sweater.”  
“Ugly?”  
“Don’t know…not sure. It is really warm and cosy.”  
“The pattern, tell me what it’s like?”  
“Someone did it…there is snow and a decorated tree…a red and silver fox sitting in either sides. It is cute…for hiding at home.” Anthea chuckled.  
“Want a photo!”  
“All right. Now; that I’m up…I start cooking.”  
“I have that done for me…have a nice day. Should I call you tomorrow?”  
“No, no need.”  
“You can if you need me, any time.”  
“Thank you.” he mumbled. “Oh, incoming call, got to go.” he changed lines. “Sherlock?”  
“Brother mine…”  
“I told mother and I tell you again that I will not go with you.”  
“I know, just asking what you are doing tomorrow evening.”  
“Nothing really. Why?”  
“Mummy and daddy are staying with us for Christmas…you could come too, the whole family together.”  
“So I’m the part of the family again? Mother doesn’t know about it…” he just realised.  
“Does it matter?”  
“Kind of…if she’d be like on the phone, I rather stay at home.”  
“I can’t promise she will be decent…she is…” Sherlock was whispering. “She is still angry and whatever dad says to her about the matter…”  
“Waist of air.”  
“Yes, sometimes I can talk to her but it’s a slow process…I thought you can talk during the holidays.”  
“Maybe give her some more time.” he rubbed his eyes.  
“A lot passed already.”  
“And nothing changed.”  
“That is why I thought that it’s being Christmas and all…could help to set things right.”  
“I don’t think I can get through it now…sorry.”  
“Why?”  
“I can’t! I can’t sit and smile for the child’s sake while my mother…” his voice got louder and louder.  
“Okay, okay…you don’t have to come!”  
“Thank you.” he huffed.  
“If you change your mind…you know where we live.” he mumbled.  
“Thank you brother mine.”  
“But you must come over for the New Year’s party…not really party, just something for Rosie.”  
“I will be there.”  
“Good. Merry Christmas Mycroft.”  
“To you too.” he felt a shiver running up his spine when he put down the phone. He put on the sweater, just realising how fluffy its inside was. He contemplated what to do now. He should be cooking but he had no energy or motivation for it. He should be cleaning up after last night’s baking, but even putting it to the dishwasher was too much for him. He picked up a big mug of tea and headed back to bed.


	23. Day 24

Mycroft got out of bed, deciding that it was time for it, he strolled down apparently he fell asleep after drinking his tea last afternoon. Since it was past noon he decided to skip breakfast and since he cooked nothing, lunch too. He made tea and went to watch a movie when realisation hit him.   
“Last day…What it’ll be.” he went out to check the mail box, but there was nothing.   
“Give it up Mycroft, it is over.” he sighed. “Like everything nice…doesn’t last, not for you.” He was about to head back to bed when the bell rang.  
“Finally.” he hurried to the door. “James.” his excitement faded seeing his previous driver.  
“Mr. Holmes.” he handed him a black envelope with the so familiar sash. Mycroft opened it with shaking hands. It was hand written note, only one word. ‘Pack!’  
“So you are in on it?”   
“In on what Sir?”  
“Who sent you?”  
“Anthea.”  
“So she is in on it.”  
“In on what?” he frowned.   
“This!” he waved the envelope.  
“I don’t know what it is, Anthea just asked me to do this.”  
“And out of your kind heart you said yes?”  
“Not only that.” he mumbled. “But we really should leave, traffic is crazy.”  
“Where are you taking me?”  
“I can not tell that, sorry. She only said to trust her, trust me…” Mycroft hesitated for a second.  
“Just a minute.” he sighed finally.   
He stopped in the middle of packing. “This is mental, I don’t know where I’m going, who with? I’m following a faceless person’s note. My uncle would get a stroke hearing this, why did they waist so much time on training me?” he sat down rubbing his eyes trying to figure who it could be, trying to put together the pieces, but it was all a mess. “It doesn’t matter.” he shrugged and closed the suitcase. “Anything is better than this…at least I’m not lonely for a day or so.” he mumbled walking down the stairs.

“Where are we going?” Mycroft asked for the hundred’s time  
“Soon there.” this was the first time James answered.  
“It is getting dark quickly.” Mycroft stated.  
“In deed.”  
“You really won’t talk to me.”  
“What you want to talk about Mr. Holmes?”  
“Nothing.” he sighed. “Actually, why aren’t you home? With your friends maybe?”  
“They all have families.”  
“Why don’t you?”  
“Never found anyone.”  
“Not lonely?”  
“I could ask the same.” Mycroft laughed dryly. “I didn’t mean to…”  
“No, no. To answer your question, I am…but keep telling myself that I deserve it.”  
“You don’t, no one does.”  
“It is kind of you.” he sighed.  
“Not kind, the truth.” the car pulled over in front of a little cottage. “This is it Sir.”  
“Thank you.” he looked at the charming cottage. Warm light was radiating from the windows, smoke rising from the chimney. It was nicely decorated, lights in the front garden, snow everywhere. Mycroft got out and took his bag, he looked back at the car, but it already pulled away. He was standing by the gate taking in the sight, the lights swirled up on the trees and bushes. Mycroft hesitantly knocked and waited for the door to open.  
“Hello.” Greg opened it smiling at him warmly.  
“You…” he whispered. “You.”   
“Me, come in.” he stepped aside. “Much warmer in here.”  
“You…” Greg took his bag and pulled him in.   
“Still me, always me…” he chuckled awkwardly.   
“Why?”  
“I thought it was obvious…I love you, I want to be with you, help you.”  
“Why everyone keeps saying that?” he whined.  
“Because we all see that you need it.” he took his hands gently. “We really want the best for you. I want the best for you Mycroft.”  
“But why?” he whispered.  
“Because I’m in love with you.”  
“Me? Why me?”  
“You Mycroft.” he took his hat off. “You My…because you are an amazing person. I love talking to you, I feel so good in your company, I want to spend even more time with you. I figured this way I can build up the courage to finally confess my love. I’m not scared of you, but…what everyone else would think of me for being bi. It is me, not you…promise…just silly old me. I was so happy when you called me, when you invited me out…I thought you’d figure, I left you enough clues.”  
“Clues?”  
“The scarf was the point when Anthea figured, matching ties for dinner, the book you talked about, the picture Sherlock has in his bedroom, the ornaments you wanted, your favourite treats, foxes, my handwriting…I sent things that connected the two of us in some way…I even tried hinting it to you.” Mycroft was silent for a long time, he stepped closer and slid his arms around Greg’s waist.  
“Gregory.” he whined burying his face to his shoulder. Greg wrapped his arms around him stroking his back. “I…I…me?”  
“You.” he chuckled kissing his temple. “You, you, only you.” he whispered.  
“I asked you out for that dinner because I wanted to be with you.”  
“Thank you.”  
“But I was too scared to make a move. When you said that the person might turn up…I was really anxious because I didn’t want it to be someone else.”  
“Thank you My.”  
“And I was thinking of not coming because I’d have to tell the person dedicating so much time to me that I…I think I love someone else.” he gripped Greg’s sweater. Greg’s heart wanted to jump out of his chest.   
“My…remember when I rescued you?”  
“Yes.”  
“Before we left shopping you took my hand.”  
“Really? I don’t remember.”  
“Exactly. Have you’ve been able to deduce what was in the packages?”  
“No.”  
“Recognised my handwriting?”  
“No…I know your handwriting…but…” he took the note out of his coat pocket. “It is yours…” he whispered.  
“You proved it several times what you are capable of…but nothing for a month.”  
“I didn’t want to spoil the surprise for Anthea.”  
“My.”  
“I…have to sit down.” Greg helped him to sit, taking the coat off him.  
“You don’t look well.” he patted him around. “When was the last time you ate?”  
“I…not sure.”  
“Morning?”  
“Yesterday morning.”  
“Oh My…just sit, I warm dinner up in a second.” When Greg turned back to him Mycroft was quietly crying. “Mycroft?” he knelt in front of him taking his hands and cupping his face. “What can I do for you? Tell me?”  
“I don’t want you to be right.” he whined. Greg smiled at him softly. “But you are…” he wiped his tears. Greg hugged him stroking his back till he calmed down.  
“We have a few days to talk things over, to make a plan…”  
“Together?”  
“Of course.” he looked him in the eyes. “You and me, nothing can stop us.” Mycroft smiled faintly. “Now time for dinner Mr. Holmes.” he turned the chair towards the table.

Mycroft was wearing the sweater, his scarf wrapped around his neck also a blanket. Greg had his arms around him, stroking his hair as Mycroft slept on his chest. They started a movie but he was out really soon.  
“Hmm?” Mycroft looked around with confusion.  
“Shhh, shhh…nothing happened.”  
“What are you doing?”  
“Stroking your hair.”  
“Why?”  
“I love it.” he ran his fingers through it. “Your ginger locks…please don’t paint it.”  
“I’m not, letting it grow out.”  
“Good.”  
“I like yours too…really much.”  
“Thank you.” he chuckled. “I have one more thing I wanted to give to you.”  
“Something else?” he looked up at him.  
“Yes.” he gave him an envelope.  
“What is it?”  
“Read it.” Mycroft opened it, the papers shaking in his hands.  
“No. No way…no way.” he sat up. “No.”  
“My decision.” Greg shrugged, he sat up too crossing his legs.  
“But…”  
“I wanted to prove to you that when I say that I’ll be there for you…I really mean it. I’ll have all the time for you.”  
“You love your job, don’t do this for me…what if it doesn’t work out and…and…”  
“I used to love it, I’m tired, motivation gone, days blend together, burned out…it is time for a change. Focusing on myself, on things I want to…you, reading, gardening, travelling, I want to write…”  
“You too?”  
“Who else?”  
“Anthea and she keeps trying to get me into it too.”  
“You know what? My uncle died and left me money…it sits in the bank because I never had time to use it. We buy this place…have the garden, the forest in our back garden, away from people, but still close to London, we’ll have the perfect writing place.”  
“What are you saying?”  
“Move in with me Mycroft Holmes.”  
“Even that I’m like this?”  
“Being perfect you mean?” he chuckled making Mycroft turn red. “Think about it.” he kissed him on the nose.  
“I will.” he laid back on his chest. “I’ll think about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it!  
> Thank you all for reading it. I have to admit that it was some days harder than I imagined, but I ended up where I wanted to, so I'm satified with what I created.  
> Of course I've already forgotten the stress it caused me some days and thought of checking in on the boys the next year too...we'll see; lot's of water down the river till that.  
> Have a really nice Holiday season guys!


End file.
